Richelle Mead Dark Swan Bundle: Storm Born, Thorn Queen, Iron Crowned & Shadow Heir (62 page)

He left, shutting the door behind him. I heard the snick of a lock. Across the room, Cariena watched me with big, terrified eyes. She feared both me and Art. I sighed. “It's okay. I'll get dressed. I don't want to run around in my underwear anyway.”

Visibly relieved, she stepped forward and unfurled what she held: a dress. A gentry-style dress.

“You have got to be kidding me,” I said. “Isn't there something else?”

Cariena cringed. “It's all he gave me.”

I eyed the bedspread, almost wondering if I could go all Scarlett O'Hara and make something for myself. Then, seeing Cariena's pale face, I yielded again. I wouldn't let Art beat her or give her to some guy because of me. I took the dress from her but discovered I couldn't put it on without help, not with my weak muscles and groggy motor control. Being in that state infuriated me. I hated being helpless. More upsetting still was that I was essentially free, unbound and able to move about…but I had no means to fight or defend myself. I could barely even stand. I was a prisoner in my own body.

The dress was a mix of lavender and pale blue. I guess you'd call it periwinkle, which I'd always thought was a dorky name. It was made of smooth, clingy velvet that hugged my body and laced up the back corset-style. The sleeves were long and form-fitting, and the scoop neckline was much lower than my usual style. I'd only wear something that showed that much cleavage if I was going on a date with Kiyo—or trying to coax a favor from Dorian.

Kiyo and Dorian. It sounded pathetic and all damsel-in-distress, but I would have given anything to have them here right now.

Cariena clasped her hands and studied me almost adoringly. “You look beautiful, your majesty. I see now why you have so many suitors back in our world.”

Our world
. “Well, I don't think my beauty plays quite as much a role as you think.”

She produced a brush and undid the knotted ponytail in my hair. “I don't know if I want to be beautiful or not. I used to think I did. But since I'm not, no one will take me from here.” She sounded grateful.

“You
are
beautiful,” I said sharply, angry at what Art had said. “And someone is going to take you from here—me.”

Cariena gave me a small, sad smile, but for the first time, I thought there might be something like hope in her eyes. A knock at the door startled her back into timid mode as she leapt up from where she'd sat beside me. “Oh! He's here.”

“Who?” I asked. Surely Art wouldn't have knocked.

The lock clicked, and the door opened. Leith walked in.

“Leith!” I exclaimed. He looked as I'd seen him before, clad in a red and white silk shirt, dark hair glossy and swept from his face in a ponytail. I wanted to jump up but knew I'd fall to the floor again. “Thank God.” Someone did know I was here. I wasn't lost forever. I wanted to tell Cariena we were on the verge of freedom, but she was already scurrying out of the room and hastily shutting the door.

“Eugenie,” breathed Leith, striding toward me. He knelt on the ground and caught hold of my hands where I sat. “You are stunning…as beautiful as I remember. No, more so. You can't imagine how I've missed you.”

A chill crept along my spine. Something was very, very wrong here.

“Leith…we have to get out of here. You have to help me—and these girls. There are horrible things going on here.”

“We can leave,” he said. “But not quite yet. Not until everything's settled.”

I tested his hand to see if I could free mine. I couldn't. “Until what's settled?”

“Until then,” he continued, as though I hadn't spoken, “you'll have to stay here where no one can find you. But I promise I'll visit you every day.”

“I can't stay here! I have to get back to…anywhere that's not here. Tucson. The Thorn Land. Anywhere! Leith, what the hell is going on? Why are you here?”

“Because you are. Because Art got you for me.”

That chill down my spine spread to the rest of my body until I felt cold all over. I tried jerking my hand away again but didn't possess the strength. “How do you know Art? Oh God. Please tell me you aren't working with him.”

He shrugged. “It's a mutually beneficial relationship. I help him collect girls in our—in the Otherworld.”

“Girls from my kingdom,” I said, the realization coming suddenly. “That's why none of yours were ever taken.”

Leith had the grace to look sheepish. “I don't take important ones, Eugenie. Just peasants. No one notices they're missing.”

“Their parents do.”

“Look, it doesn't matter. My soldiers help round them up, and I bring them to Art and Abigail to do what it is they do.”
My soldiers.
The soldiers who always wore red, just like Leith did now. Normally, red shirts made me think of
Star Trek
extras, but in this case, it was in tribute to the Rowan Land's flag and emblem. The soldiers Jasmine and others had seen weren't Aeson's deserters. They'd been sent by Leith to help Art and Abigail with their abductions.

“They sell them, Leith! How can you stand by and enable that? They sell those girls to horny guys against their will. What can you possibly get out of it to justify having that on your conscience?”

“This.” He gestured around. “Art and Abigail share things with me…their knowledge from this world. I take it back to mine.”

I stared in disbelief. “And then you pass it off as your own. That's why everyone thinks you're such a technological genius. Did you really devise those irrigation plans for me yourself?”

“No,” he admitted. “I had help. But does it really matter? Look, you don't know what it's like. You're strong. Your magic grows more powerful every day. But me? I'm a joke. I can't inherit. Proving myself with my ‘genius' was the only way to get any respect…and even that wouldn't be good enough to let me inherit. Until I met you.”

“Leith—”

“I know what you said, but my feelings haven't changed. I love you. And I know if you just spend a little more time with me, you'll love me too. We connect. There's something between us. It's more than just about power.”

I leaned back. It was the only way I could put distance between us. “I'm not so sure about that. You think I'm your meal ticket to holding on to the Rowan Land.”

“Not just that land, but all the lands! This world too. Eugenie, when you bear my son, you'll see that I'm right.” There was a zealous glow in his eyes, and I couldn't decide if he was crazy or just really, really believed these things would be true if he said them. Maybe there wasn't a difference. “I can make you happy—and I know you can make me happy. You're so beautiful….”

He moved up to sit beside me on the bed and ran one hand along my velvet-covered leg. “Leith…don't…”

“I just need to get you pregnant,” he said earnestly. “Don't you understand? If I bring you back to our world carrying my child, everything will be solved. Art told me…he told me how you stop yourself from conceiving. How you take some potion every day.” His hand moved up to my hip while his other touched my face and stroked my hair. I tried to back away, but his grip was too strong in my addled state. “He said if you're away from it long enough that you'll be able to have a baby….”

I swallowed. My heart was threatening to pound out of my chest. “No…it won't work. You can't get me pregnant—because I already am.”

His caresses froze. “What?”

“You were right before about me being involved with Dorian. Kiyo was a cover. He's not worthy—he's no one I'd want to father my child. Dorian and I have been lovers for a long time now in secret. We were afraid of what his enemies would do if they found out. I've been pregnant for…” What wouldn't show? “…two months. It's too late for you, Leith.”

He had gone perfectly still, save for his eyes, which were searching my face thoroughly. “I don't believe you. You're lying. Everyone knows how you bicker with the Oak King. You aren't lovers.”

“We are. He'll kill you when he finds out.”

Leith shook his head and slid his hand from my hip to my stomach. “There's nothing here. Not yet.”

Panic flooded me, and for a moment I couldn't breathe. Every other time I'd come close to being raped flashed through my mind—and there had been far more of those times than I would have liked. And every time, I had escaped the situation. Yet that never made the next time any less terrifying. This was no exception.

“Leith, please don't do this.”

His hand moved fumblingly to my breast, and then he pushed me back against the bed. “It's okay,” he said, speaking as one would to a child. “It'll be okay. You'll like it. I promise.”

“Don't do this!”

His mouth was on my neck, and lovesick boy or no, there was definitely a man's sexual need there. I struggled against him, trying desperately to free myself, but I might as well have truly been a child. With that fucking drug in me, both my body and brain were a mess. My body had none of its ability to fight him or stop him from pushing up my skirt. My brain had no clever ways to talk him out of this. And as he took off his own clothes and laid his body on top of mine, pressing me down, I realized he needed no handcuffs to keep me subdued. The strength of his hands pinning my wrists was more than enough.

There is no real way to describe rape.

Sex with Kiyo or Dorian, the men I loved…well, I could have described that for hours in exquisite detail. I could have elaborated on the way they stroked my hair or the way their lips touched my skin. Even with Dean—my cheating bastard ex—sex had still had its share of affection and joy, back when things had been good between us.

There was none of that with Leith.

Well, not on my part, at least. And I think that's what made it especially bad. For him, with his crazy infatuation, it really was an act of love. He visited me often over the next few days, and each time he took me against my will, he'd tell me he loved me and attempt some sort of gentleness and affection. The horrible part was, I couldn't even resist that. It barely required any force on his part to make me submit. Honestly, I wished it had been violent. I wished he'd been cruel and brutal. I'd spent my life in fights, dealing with pain and blows. There would have been something comfortingly familiar about that, like it was just another battle for me. The twisted love he showed for me during each act of rape, however…well, that made it harder to bear.

In that time, I only saw Art once. Abigail checked on me a number of times, and I learned that it was she who mixed the nightshade, though Leith had taught her the recipe. Cariena was the one I saw the most. She seemed to have been installed as the live-in maid and occasional sex toy for visiting guys. When I arrived, there had been three other gentry girls, but Isanna—the one I'd heard mentioned that first day—left shortly. She was very pretty, and Abigail seemed particularly happy at the price she'd gotten for her.

The other two were stunning as well, and they seemed to glumly accept that their time would come. They faced it without much emotion or protest, like condemned criminals going to the gallows. Mostly, their faces were like pieces of a dream. I was kept so heavily drugged that my moments of clarity were few—though the drugs never made me forget what Leith did. None of the other girls had to be drugged; the iron was enough for them. Cariena told me, however, that when other women had required the nightshade, they hadn't taken nearly as much as me. Art and Abigail were too afraid of me getting loose, so they gave it to me more frequently than usual.

“When will you know?” Leith demanded one day. He had just arrived and stood outside my room, arguing with Abigail. The door was ajar. “I thought you people had the ability to tell this kind of thing.”

“We can,” snapped Abigail. “But not this soon. You've probably got to wait at least two weeks. Besides, you don't seem to mind passing the time that much.” The sneer in her voice came through loud and clear. I made a mental note to choke the life out of that bitch.

Leith, however, didn't sound so happy. “Two weeks is a long time. I need to bring her back pregnant before anyone finds her! They're looking for her. She has powerful allies. Her people are loyal, and both the Oak King and the Willow Queen have taken up the search.”

Dorian's dedication didn't surprise me, and knowing he was working to find me gave me the first hope I'd had in a while. But Maiwenn, too? Had that been Kiyo's doing? Or truly her own kindness?

“I don't care about your tree-based monarchs,” said Abigail impatiently. “Nobody would think to look for her here.”

“She suspected before. She told others. Someone could scry for her.”

“They won't find her. Scrying won't work. Not with the wards here. Now why don't you stop whining and just get in there and do your business so this won't be a problem. She's almost due for her next dose.”

I decided wringing her neck wasn't slow and painful enough. Yet, their words had given me a lot to think about. There was a search on, enough of one that Leith feared discovery. Her mentioning the wards had reminded me of when I'd sent Volusian here. Volusian…there was an option I hadn't considered yet. I could summon Volusian to me and have him warn the others. The wards were a problem. He couldn't break them on his own, but if I was calling him, the ties that bound us would be enough to pull him through.
If
I could muster the energy to do it. The iron and nightshade affected the gentry part of my magic. My shamanic powers, the ones I'd used for years, were tied into my strength and will—which I didn't have a lot of lately.

That being said, I felt more coherent now than I had in a while—which was still pretty addled. Abigail had said it was almost time for my next dose. I had to imagine the further from the dose I got, the more its effects would dim. Cariena had said most people didn't take as much, which probably meant the nightshade would still stay in my system awhile. But if I could reach a point when its effects were lessened…

My brainstorming was halted as Leith entered. Consternation from his argument with Abigail showed on his face, but it soon transformed to a smile when he saw me. “Eugenie…you look so pretty today.”

Yes, yes, I'd heard it all before. I was so beautiful, so amazing, a jewel among women that he loved so much. His words irritated me as much as insults would have. I'd been put in an ivory damask dress today, which gave me sickening bridal associations.

He looked me over, and his admiration again changed to a frown. I was lying on the bed, one hand cuffed to the headboard. “What's this?” he asked. “Why did they do that?”

“I was a smartass to Abigail. This was her punishment.”

His face darkened further as he sat on the bed. “I don't like that…don't like her doing that. But, Eugenie, you have to admit you bring it on yourself….”

Oh, Leith. He was so lucky I could barely lift my free arm, or I would have punched that pretty face of his.

He peered at me intently. “You have to get pregnant soon.”

“It's not something I can really control,” I said. Well, I could have controlled
not
getting pregnant if I was still on the pill. I hadn't taken it in…how many days? Three? Four? I wasn't sure how long I'd been here. I knew all the stats, though, about women who'd gotten pregnant from just missing one pill….

He sighed and began unlacing the bodice of my dress. “We'll just have to keep trying then. If we just wait a little while afterward, I can do it twice today.”

Oh, how fucking lovely. I wanted to explain that it wouldn't matter how many times he did it, not if I wasn't ovulating. That kind of science was lost on him, I knew, alleged genius or no. As far as most gentry were concerned, sex equaled babies, end of story.

“Once it's done, we can go home. We'll get married, and you won't have to be restrained like this anymore. You can move freely and use your magic.”

I decided not to mention that if we did that, the first thing I'd do with my magic was make sure I was a widow.

“Things'll be good then,” he said, moving his body over mine. “I promise. I love you so much….”

 

I didn't need any nightshade to make me feel numb after Leith left. He'd held good to his word to have sex twice, and I was slowly reaching that point where it just didn't matter. I couldn't feel anything. My body wasn't even attached to my consciousness. It was like my mind existed elsewhere, dreaming or, occasionally, plotting my revenge through the drugged haze. I thought of anything I could—anything that wasn't the violation of my body—while he was on top of me. Usually, I imagined it was happening to someone else and not me. That made it easier to bear until after he left, when the ache inside reminded me that it had indeed been me.

Cariena and another girl arrived shortly thereafter to give me my next dose of nightshade. I couldn't recall the other girl's name, though not for lack of caring. It was just the way my brain worked lately. She was extremely pretty, with curly black hair and sky blue eyes that reminded me of Ysabel's.

Abigail occasionally let the girls administer the nightshade, confident enough in her hold over them to do it. And her confidence was well-founded. I'd tried before to talk them out of it, but their fear of her was too great. This time, I merely attempted a delay.

“Wait,” I said, as they leaned over. It looked like the black-haired girl was going to hold me down while Cariena poured. “Let me just talk to you for a minute.”

Cariena immediately grew nervous. “Your majesty, we can't…” Sometimes I found her use of my title endearing. Other times, I thought it was a joke, considering my present situation.

“Just a minute. That's all.”

“Let her,” said the other girl.

I flashed her a grateful smile. “What's your name again?”

“Markelle.”

It sounded familiar.
Markelle.
I would remember this time. I wanted to treat her as a person, not an object. “Look, I just want to know about the nightshade. How often do I take it?”

“Every six hours,” said Cariena, still clearly worried about this delay.

“That's twice as often as they usually give it,” added Markelle. And with those words, I saw the slightest flash of bitterness in her eyes, the first I'd seen in any girl. I wondered then if she was one of the other “difficult” ones that Cariena had described, one who had to be drugged as well and eventually subdued.

“Is there any way…is there any way you guys could, like, dilute it?” There it was, the big question.

Cariena gasped, but Markelle readily answered. “No, your majesty. Abigail makes it herself and makes sure we come straight here. There's no opportunity.”

“Where? Where does she make it?”

“In the kitchen. She has the ingredients set aside and makes a fresh batch every day.”

“What else is in it? Aside from the nightshade?”

Markelle looked at Cariena expectantly. Cariena gulped, and it took her several seconds to answer. She rattled off a list of herbs, some of which I knew, some of which were unfamiliar. They probably had different names in the Otherworld.

“Do Abigail and Art ever eat here? Like, do they cook? Is their kitchen stocked?”

Markelle nodded. “But we never prepare the food—it's always them.” She was quick-minded; she'd probably thought I was going to suggest poison. Not a bad idea, really.

“Are there any ingredients in the nightshade mix that look like other herbs they might have in the kitchen?”

Both girls looked confused. “I've seen no other herbs,” said Cariena.

“You have freedom of the house.” I knew most girls stayed in the basement, though. “The next time they're not around, go through the cupboards. If their kitchen's stocked, they must have a spice rack.”

A knock sounded at the door. “What's taking so long?” Abigail called.

“See if any spices look like the ones in the potion,” I hissed as the doorknob turned. “Swap them.”

Abigail entered just as Markelle held me down. Cariena poured while Abigail watched with a critical eye. “You're too slow,” snapped the shaman. “She needs this regularly.”

Both girls groveled, bowing their heads deferentially. “Forgive us,” said Cariena. I knew her contrition wasn't faked. “It won't happen again.”

Abigail rolled her eyes. “Stupid girls. I'll have to do it myself next time.”

The instant effect that damned potion always had began to run through me. The familiar blackness swept over me, and I slept.

 

Another day went by. Leith “visited,” and the girls apparently hadn't taken my advice on the nightshade because my six-hour cycle repeated as usual. Abigail usually came with one of the girls now, apparently not trusting them anymore. Art came once as well, and a few caustic comments from me earned me another cuffed hand.

I began to understand the roles they played. Both participated in the brokering and sale of the girls. Art helped Leith's men catch the girls and offered his home—the one I'd once thought too large for a guy like him—as their prison. Abigail seemed to handle the day-to-day affairs of taking care of the girls, and it occurred to me one day that those handcuffs at her place hadn't been part of anything kinky. They'd been part of her arsenal for this hellhole, and I suspected the trip to see her “sister” that day had probably been to deliver some poor girl to her new owner. I cringed at what that car ride must have been like. For a gentry to be surrounded in all that metal and technology…it would have been awful for her.

Leith was getting dressed after one of his conjugal visits one day. I was close enough to my next nightshade dose that I was able to shoot him looks of contempt—ones he didn't notice. He seemed particularly excited.

“It's been a week,” he said. “One more week, and Abigail says we can test to see if you're carrying my child.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I can feel it, Eugenie. I know we've done it.”

There was no “we” in sexual assault, but again, I found it easier just to remain silent lately. It usually made him leave that much more quickly, which then left me alone with my thoughts and my aching body. Sometimes after he visited, my body would feel so violated and dirty that I'd hate it. Then I'd remember that none of this was the fault of my body or me. It was Leith.